


Wrapped Up In Ribbon

by bi0nicbuckyb



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-06
Updated: 2019-01-06
Packaged: 2019-10-05 16:57:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17328905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bi0nicbuckyb/pseuds/bi0nicbuckyb





	Wrapped Up In Ribbon

Dean was coming home for the holidays. He promised, swore up and down that he’d be home by Christmas, so you decided to prepare. Sam was staying behind by himself to investigate their recent case just a bit more, although you knew it was because he was well aware that you and Dean needed some much needed alone time. 

You’d even stepped out of your comfort zone, and bought the sexiest red lingerie you could possibly find. Knowing Dean would go nuts over it, you willed yourself to put it on so it would be the first thing he saw when he walked down the Bunker steps. 

It was about fifteen minutes to midnight. You kept illuminating the screen on your phone, checking the time. He had promised after all, so you didn’t feel bad about being antsy. Knowing he was probably driving, you didn’t text him, and instead sat down in the chair which faced the door, tapping your foot impatiently, waiting to hear the rumble of the Impala’s engine pull up outside. 

12:01. It was Christmas, and still no sign of Dean. 

You stood up from the chair and smoothed out your red, skimpy, see through nightgown. Opting for nothing underneath it, you were suddenly freezing. If he didn’t show up within the next ten minutes, you were taking this wretched thing off and going to sleep. A low whistle behind you made you turn quickly, your heart skipping several beats when you saw who stood behind you. 

“Santa baby,” Dean drawled, dropping his bag on the floor right where he stood. It made a loud bang on the hardwood floor, making you jump. His emerald green eyes were practically sparkling, as he looked you up and down like a present waiting to be unwrapped. “Look at you.”

You felt the heat creep up your neck and face, as you felt his eyes all over you. There was a devilish smirk on his face as he walked slowly closer to you, his fingers itching to touch you. The sexual tension between the two of you was electric, Dean closing the space with every inch he stepped, until he was right in front of you. 

“Hi,” you whispered, looking down at his boots, unexpectedly shy. Countless times you’d made love to the man in front of you, but he never ceased to make butterflies flutter in your stomach. 

“Hello to you,” he replied, his voice low and gruff, sending shivers along your entire body. “What’s this?” His fingers took the hem of your nightgown between them, feeling the fabric. You felt his knuckle touch your stomach as he did so, a deep pull between your legs starting to build. 

“Just something I picked up. I thought you’d like it.”

You looked up at him and watched as his tongue swiped over his bottom lip; that magic fucking tongue. He really was a tortuous human being. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he drawled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you close. His breath tickled your neck, as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his large hands moving to squeeze your ass. “Like is just not a strong enough word for what this little outfit does to me.” 

He moved your hand and guided it to the bulge that had been created in his jeans. Your eyes met his again and his mischievous grin was even wider now, his eyes fluttering closed as you squeezed him through the restricting denim. 

His mouth was suddenly on yours, his soft lips forming with yours like a perfect puzzle. He lifted you up by your ass and you wrapped your legs around his waist, as he quickly carried you to your bedroom. Your lips never parted as he carried you down the long hallway, your hands working through his hair, gliding it between them. You had missed the way it felt between your fingers, and he had grown it a bit longer at your request. 

“I love your hair,” you whispered between kisses. “Keep it this length.”

“I’ll literally do anything you want if you wear this more often,” Dean said with a chuckle, kicking the bedroom door open with his boot. He placed you down on the floor gently, and your legs tried to find momentum to stand. With wobbly knees, you stood before him, watching him kick off his boots and remove his flannel. 

Your hands itching to touch him, you walked forward and ran your palms along his chest up to his shoulders. Feeling the muscles underneath the cotton t-shirt, you tugged on it, hoping he’d get the hint to remove it. He did, throwing it to the side with his flannel. The muscles in his arms and shoulders were impeccable, like a work of art cut from the finest marble. You ran your hands over every vein, licking your lips in the process. He watched your every move, his breathing becoming heavier. Your hands finally made it to the waistband of his pants, and you undid his belt. 

“Off,” you commanded, your brain unable to form full sentences at this point. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

With hungry eyes, you watched him remove his jeans and boxer briefs, kicking them off to the side with the rest of his clothes. He was completely naked in front of you now, like a forgotten Greek god. You swallowed hard, as your eyes fell on what stood at attention between his legs. 

“You’re leaving that on,” he said with a smirk. “I need to fuck you senseless in that.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied meekly, giving him your own sly smile. 

His eyes lit up, as he suddenly ran to the closet. You took the time to appreciate the view from behind, as he reappeared with a roll of bright, candy apple red ribbon.   
“What’s that for?” you asked curiously. 

“Lay down on the bed and I’ll show you.”

You did as you were told, and laid down on the cool, black comforter. Dean came up beside you and took your right wrist, tying it securely with the ribbon to the bedpost. You could feel your heart hammering in your chest, as you realized what he was doing. He was tying you up, so you couldn’t move, and so he could do whatever he wanted to you. As he tied your left wrist gently to the opposite bedpost with another piece of ribbon, you didn’t protest. Instead, you watched his every move, trying to prepare yourself for what was coming next. 

“Is this okay?” he asked, laying between your legs, spreading them apart with his calloused hands. 

“Um, duh,” was all your brain would allow you to say. Dean chuckled and traced a line with his finger down your aching sex. 

“You're already so wet for me…” 

“I've been wet since you came home.” 

“I need to taste this pretty pussy.” 

And with that, Dean's lips closed around your clit? sucking lightly. Your hips bucked off the bed and instinctively arched towards his mouth, his tongue swirling perfect circles. Your hands were dying to grab his hair, to tug and feel the softness between your fingers, but you were tied up. A low mewl of pleasure and frustration escaped your lips, and Dean's laughs from between your legs made vibrations rocket through you. 

“Fuck!” you yelled, throwing your head back on the pillow. 

“That's right, sweetheart. Lemme hear you.” 

His face was coated with your juices, and just seeing him between your legs made you want to cum. It was hard to hold it back, and when his lips claimed their place back around your clit, your orgasm erupted like a volcano. 

Dean held your hips as you came on his mouth, his tongue lapping up every drop. When your shaking subsided, he crawled up and kissed you fiercely, allowing you to taste yourself. 

“Like strawberries,” he whispered, kissing a trail from your neck down to your stomach. “Sweet and juicy.” 

You needed to touch him, taste him, but the ribbons were preventing you from doing any of that. 

“Please,” you shamelessly begged. “Let me touch you.” 

Surprisingly, Dean quickly worked to untie your hands. You kissed him quickly again, your foreheads pressed together, desperate to be as close as possible to one another. 

“Sit down on the bed,” you commanded. “And tie my hair back with this ribbon.”

He did as he was told, and you kneeled between his legs. Before he could say or do anything, you wrapped your hand around his cock, squeezing lightly. He hissed between his teeth and leaned back on his elbows, watching you behind hooded lids. 

“Let me feel that pretty mouth around my cock.”

Wrapping your lips around his throbbing shaft, you took it as deep into your mouth as you could. Your tongue swirled around every ridge and vein, and you felt his hips buck up from the bed. His hands tugged at your ponytail as you worked your magic, your nails digging into his thighs. After a while, he stopped you, taking your face into his hands. 

“You keep doing that, and I’ll be done for.” 

With ease, he grabbed you by the waist and laid you down on the bed. With shaky fingers, he finally removed your lingerie, throwing it across the floor. 

“I love that. But this is so much better…”

His palms worked over your breasts, pinching your sensitive nipples. You arched your back into his hands, desperate to feel him inside you. Dean could tell you were impatient, and he used his long fingers to grab your ankles and spread your legs wide. With ease, he lined the head of his swollen cock to your entrance, and eased himself inside. You sighed deeply as you felt him fill you, and he did the same as your walls clenched around him. 

Not much else was spoken between you, save for moans and groans of pure ecstasy, as Dean worked in and out of you at a torturously slow pace. He left kisses all along your chest, neck, and face, pausing to look you in the eye every few minutes. This is what you’d been waiting for, since he left last. The connection between you both was something you would never experience with anyone else. 

You were close to tipping over the edge, and you could tell he was getting there too. Wrapping your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck, you pulled him close and took his ear between your teeth. 

“Cum inside me,” you whispered, and you came yourself, hard and fast around him. The clenching of your walls was all it took for Dean to spill over the edge, and he collapsed on your chest. Doing what you loved most, as your chest rose and fell, you played with his hair. It was sweat soaked, but still soft, his cheek squished against your chest. 

“I didn’t get you anything for Christmas,” you suddenly said, feeling terrible for being such a crappy wife. You had been so preoccupied with preparing for him to come home, that you’d forgotten to get him a physical gift. Dean propped himself up on his elbow and kissed you, just above your belly button. 

“That’s okay,” he replied, tracing a heart on your stomach with his finger. “You’re the best present I could ever ask for.”


End file.
